Family Secrets (Phantom Phan Fiction)
by chrisstkiki
Summary: Aria Dubois grew up knowing nothing of her grandparents. She knew she had them from the stories her father told her about her grandmother and grandfather and The Man. When her parents both perish in a fatal automobile accident, she is sent from her home to a close family friends who lives in Paris, France. And someone else, finds her too. T for saftey. Set in 1921. so erik is 70-80
1. Chapter 1

I never really knew my family, and for someone growing up in the age where everyone has a large family and knows every one of them, that's fairly unusual. My mother and father,Randalf and Harriet DeBois, were both only children. My mothers parents had passed away when I was barely one, and my father, it seemed,only had a nanny.

One day, when I was just five years of age,I asked him why he didn't have a mama and papa. He looked at me, smiled with tears welling up in his eyes, and told me, "I did have a mother and father...once. You look just like her..." he stared at me and nodded, as if confirming what he had just told me was true.

"Why have I never met them papa?"I asked, trying to make a picture of my grandmother and grandfather in my mind.

"Well," he said slowly, "You have never met them because,your grandmother is trying to protect you."

I stared at him, trying to comprehend the idea of a woman I had never met trying to protect me "How is he protecting me? From what?"

He looked at me with the eyes of a very concerned father, trying to tell if I was ready for the truth. At length, he said "Did you know that your grandmother was a famous singer, once?"

I gasped, for since i could remember, that had always been my dream. "That must have been wonderful!"

"Yes I suppose it was, and she was a very good singer too. While she was just a dancer at the Opera Populaire, a man heard her sing and liked it very much, but you see, this man was tormented. He was a..."

"A Monster? Like a Goblin?"

My father let out a short, dark chuckle "Yes, I believe he was a monster, in his own way..."

Another gasp from me as a stared at him with wide, child like eyes, yearning for more of this story of my grandmother and this monster my father seemed to despise so.

"Well,"he continued, noticing the look in my eyes "this monster, believe it or not, had a beautiful voice. The voice of an angel, my mother would describe it as. But his soul...his soul was far from an angels.

" You see, this man, taught your grandmother to sing so he could perfect her voice, so he could own her voice in his own way, but owning her voice was not enough if he did not have the physical body, and soul, of her as well. It was during this time that, your grandfather started to court her, she refused his tokens of affection, because she found that she had started to love her angel, and did not want him to leave because she knew that, if she left with your grandfather, the angel would leave forever, but as your grandmother and grandfathers relationship started to strengthen,the angel started to get jealous. One night, he kidnapped her and took her to his lair, your grandfather followed for he had found the monsters lair. The monster trapped him in a Punjab lasso, and threatened to kill him if your grandmother did not agree to marry him. She chose her angel over your grandfather, not because she loved him more, but to protect your grandfather. The angel however saw through her facade and was so moved by her actions that he let her and your grandfather go and they got married and lived happily together.

" Nine months later, I was born...and he found out. He found my mother and father, and he was so furious that they did not have the "courtesy" to even wait until he was dead and buried to have their child. He was going to kidnap me, and murder me for the pain which your grandmother had made him endure...but your grandmother stopped him by giving him whatever he wanted, to protect me...but the thing he asked for was...the first born daughter in their family"

The tears that had been building in his eyes started to overflow "That is the reason I had no brothers or sisters, they couldn't bare the thought of conceiving a girl and having to give her to him, not knowing what would become of her..."

"What happened to the first born girl then?" I asked for I had failed to understand.

He looked at me again, with his eyes filled with tears and said "She's living quite happily, as of this moment..."

With that he got up and left me with my thought, thinking of this girl who was living happily with a monster like that.

I sang all the time when I got the chance. When I was only three, my father taught me how to play the song Jingle Bells, on our huge, grand piano my father got as a gift from a family. Once I knew the words to that song, I played it from December, all the way back again, all the while my mother yelling at my father to shut me up. I remember father trying to calm her by telling her that "he" would never find them or me in the small town that we lived, Mantova, Italy. Hearing mother scream about "him" made me so frightened,I would run up to my bedroom and weep until father would come to sooth me by singing a song I remember speaking of an angel of music. This song always calmed me and I longed to learn how it was to be sung. At the age of twelve, I was sewing a quilt together for a wedding present while humming the tune of it. My mother walked in to see how the quilt was going. When she heard the tune, her eyes filled with anger and grief, and she slapped me across the face.

She grabbed me by my arms and started to shake me screaming at me, telling me never to sing it again, asking me how long i had been singing it for and who taught me it. My father heard the screaming, and ran in, tearing my mother off of me, starting to cradle my small weeping figure in his arms

"You! You taught her that awful song didn't you! Didn't You" My mother kept screaming profanities at my father, willing him to confess to teaching me the tune.

He picked me up and placed me on the loveseat, before standing up, grabbing my mother,and looking her straight in the face. His voice grew quite and low, a voice I never wanted to hear come from my fathers mouth ever again. "If you, ever, lay a hand on our daughter like that again...and may God forgive me that you are a woman, and no man should ever threaten you, but if you ever lay a hand on her like that, I swear to God almighty that she will not be the only one crying." He let go of her and came back to my side, comforting me, as my mother stood and glared at the both of us. "Well forgive me,if i don't want us murdered, and her kidnapped by tomorrow morning!" She stormed out of the room with out another word.

" Papa...what did she mean? Who is coming to hurt you? Oh please! Please don't let anything happen to you or mama! Please!" I grasped his torso and held on for dear life.

He pried my hands off of him, looked me in the eye with a firm look, and said, in a much softer tone than what he used with mother "Nothing will ever happen to you or me or mama, as long as you never sing that song again...there is a man-"

"The monster?" I asked, for I still feared the monster would come and snatch me away one day.

He looked at me, very seriously and said "Now Aria Marie Dubois, I want you to understand this. Monsters...well monsters are figments of our own imagination that help us grow up when we are younger, and learn that not everything is nice so when we are older we are more...ready for the real world. Well, your old enough now that you should refer to him as The Man from now on...I cannot tell you his name because..well, you knowing his name would put you in more danger than you already are. I do this to protect you as I always have, and right now I tell you this to protect you. That song...it can draw The Man toward you and tell your whereabouts. I know that I sang it but, the thing is, when sung by the voice of your grandmother, it draws him closer to you, and I am certain that, when you were born, your grandmother gave you her voice, before she died, yes, your grandmother is dead, But when she passed away...she gave a little part of her to you. Her voice...do you understand me?"

"Yes, I do...i am never to sing the song again or the mon-...The Man will find me, take me away and hurt you...I will never sing that song again. I promise."

We hugged each other for a long while, and after that I never sang that song again. If I could do nothing else to protect them as they had done for me through out my life,I at least owed them that.


	2. Chapter 2

"Aria, Hurry up, we are going to be late!" My mother called up the stairs.

"Coming, Mama!" I shouted back, as I slipped the diamond earring into my left ear, and gave my face some final touch ups before heading down the stairs to meet my parents for church.

"Are you ready, my angel?" My father asked as he gave my cheek a peck.

"Yes, papa! Shall we go?"

We stepped out of the large archway of our, as I call it, gingerbread style house, and started toward the car. I climbed into the back seat, which might I add, was all to my self, the way I liked it. I never really enjoyed church the way mama or papa did, I just thought that it was a nice place for me to organize my thoughts once a week. Today, I started thinking of how my situation had changed these four years, since i was twelve years old. I haven't sung at all in at least two years and was slowly dieing inside, which i managed to hide well, since mama or papa hadn't noticed that every night i spent it crying myself to sleep. Since papa's speech to me about "The Man", i sang scarcely at all, but just enough to keep me sane, but after a while, I noticed that mama was happier when i wasn't singing. I couldn't bare to see her so sad, when what I wanted to do when i sang was to make peoples spirits soar, but if i couldn't even do that with my mother, what hope did i have with the rest of the world. I remembered what my father said to me about having my grandmothers voice. Why did he just try to comfort me after scaring me so, and with those lies that would make me want to make my voice soar above anything else. He ruined my dreams, he lied to me, and I wanted nothing to do with him and his talk of "The Man" who stole away my aunt or niece or who ever she was. Truly, I have started to think that that was all a very tale tale that father told me just to explain his lack of a mother and father and mothers absolute hatred and fear of my voice. The last two years, i have stopped singing all together, and speak in short, sharp sentences, when I have the chance, mostly loosing myself into my novels so I could escape the cruel world and its cold lies.

We got to church much earlier than I would have hoped. We settled down in our pew, and while my mama and papa settled down into their silent prayer, i settled into my own thoughts.

When the first chant started, I stood, but did not reach for the book of songs and look for the song, i just closed my eyes and listened to my fathers beautiful gentle, yet forceful tenor booming above all the rest. No matter how much a resented my father for lieing to me about my voice, i could never stop being jealous of his magnificent voice.

At length I felt a rough finger brush something wet from my cheek. I opened my eyes and realized that it was my father brushing a tear from my cheek. He looked into my teary eyes, his eyes asking me "What is the matter my, Angel? Please, don't shut me out again!" It was all i could do not to grab him and have him hold me like when i was younger, but i just looked away. I couldn't succumb to my child needs to be held like a baby once again.

We sat down and the pastor started to drone on through the mass while I lost my self, once again, in my thoughts.

As we started out the doors of the chapel, our pastor, Father Lawrence, stopped us to speak with my father and mother. I stood to the side politely while the Priest continued to speak to my parents about the weather, but before i could loose my self again, one of my mothers friends, Signora Caccietore scampered up to me.

"Oh, Aria, how long I haven't seen you!" She exclaimed, kissing me on both cheeks.

"Good Morning, Signora Caccietore" I said with a tight smile

"That is all I get huh? A good morning? After how long I haven't seen you for, and how pretty you look to! Not like your mother either, or your father!" I couldn't help but cringe a little at the comment.

She was right I knew that. My mother and father both had straight blond hair, where as I had my usual curly heap of brown on my head. My father had nice broad shoulders with thin eyes the colour of almonds, my mother had round eyes coloured blue as the ocean and fairly broad shoulders for a woman of thirty-five. I on the other hand had one of the tiniest bone structures you could ever find on a girl of 15, with thin shoulders and hands, but long and strong fingers; pianist fingers my father once called them. One thing that I have never been able to figure out, though, were my peculiar eyes. They were the shape of almonds and the colour of clovers with a hint of yellowish hazel around the pupil. I've always loved my eyes, even though when ever my mother got the chance to she called the "unnatural". I always expect that i got them from my grandfather or grandmother, but I've never had any proof.

"And you have such beautiful eyes! Where did you get these gems from mia caro?"

Mother came from behind "Oh, do you think they are beautiful? I find them strange and unnatural, amico, but to each their own..." She grabbed my arm and pulled me to the car, with father glaring at her back and me rolling my eyes to a comment I have hear multiple times.

The ride started very quite, the calm before the storm.

"Harriet, did you have to undermine our daughter in front of your friend?" Father asked when we were a while along.

"Randalf, I was in no way undermining her, I was simply mentioning that her eyes are unnatural..."

"And what is that supposed to mean, Harriet! She is your daughter, she should be every thing that is ever dear to you and you push her away by telling her that she is unnatural!" He yelled at her, I just sat in the back bowing my head, shoulders crouched in in defeat, because I knew that what my father was saying was true, it just hurt to much to think of it.

"I was simply stating facts! It is unnatural! It all came from your side of the family! Its all your fault! You and your father and mother and that demon!" She screamed, I felt tears dripping down my cheeks.

"Harriet, you say one more word about them and Er-"

"Randalf, watch out!"

It all happened to fast! Father had swerved onto the other side of the road, while another car was coming, we had a head on collision! the car rolled several times before I was flung from the back, through the front window into some bushes on the side of the hill, we had rolled onto. I was flung just before the car had rolled, break neck speed, right into a giant maple tree, crushing the side my mother was in.

I looked in shock at the crumpled heap laying next to the maple, not caring about the gashes all along my arm, covering my light yellow dress in blood. I ran to the car to help my parents out of the car, but stopped where i stood at what I saw.

In the side that had been crushed against the tree, my mother sat, motionless and pale, her eyes staring blankly out the shattered front window, her neck bending at an extremely unnatural angle. My father lay in the drivers side, laying motionless, eyes closed. He must have hit his head on something during the crash because he had blood gushing down from his head, covering his dress coat and coating his blond hair in blood.

I felt tears building up in my "unnatural" eyes. I started to laugh, I couldn't stop laughing, I'll never hear my mother tell me about my eyes ever again, I'll never be able to hear my mother tell me how beautiful I was, not that she ever would but I might have been nice to hear from my mother. And my father, I always pushed him away...I acted as if i never loved him when he put in so much to be the best father that could ever be and i never...and now he's...

I started to scream. I called for help, and for someone to call a hospital or something. I heard something behind me, I turned and saw that my father was moving! I rushed over and pulled him out of the car as he groaned in protest.

"Papa, Papa, I'm here papa!" his eyes started to wonder up, making his eyes flutter open and shut, he didn't have much time left. I started to cry, "Papa, Please look at me Papa please!"

He looked like he had just remembered to tell me something, because he looked at me straight in the face and motioned for me to come closer. With him in my arms, I leaned closer to hear what he had to say.

"Aria, you need to promise me something, I don't have much time left on this earth...but you have to promise me, that if...if there is a man, that you feel a mighty pull toward, like you need to be with him, stay away! Run into the opposite direction! Go Home!"

"But papa why?"

"Don't ask me why! Just do what I tell you! That is my dying wish-"

"Papa don't say that! Don't please your going to live! Please, Please papa...please" I was crying harder that i had in three years. I couldn't think about having my father taken from me so soon.

"Aria, listen to me...please...please...never ever...forget that...I will always be with you.."

"Papa, No!" was all I could manage through sobs.

"Aria...sing me to sleep...please...night is coming...its getting cold."

I stared into his eyes...they were fading fast, and his grip on my hand was loosening. I had to sing to him, and keep the promise, it was his dieing wish.

"There's a place for us,  
Somewhere a place for us.  
Peace and quiet and open air  
Wait for us  
Somewhere. "

I was about to sing the next verse when he joined in.

"There's a time for us,  
Some day a time for us,  
Time together with time to spa-"

He cringed in pain and looked at me. "I will never leave you."

I don't know how long he layed in my arms, motionless, before someone helped me.


	3. Chapter 3

I sat in my small bedroom, back at my house. It had been 5 months since the accident, and I was just getting ready to leave with my new guardian.

It took my lawyer four months to find some type of relative, a very close family friend, that lived far away from my home town, by my own request, I did not want to live in this place ever again. They had found an elderly lady, about eighty-nine who was my grandmothers friend, but it was too close for my liking, so I polity turned down her offer to take me in until my eighteenth birthday, when I could decide where I wished to go. Then, from out of the blue, an middle-aged woman, about forty-five to fifty-five, came to my house. She told us that she had heard from another close friend of hers that both my parents had perished in a terrible accident, and now there was no one to care for me. She refused to give the name of the friend who told her, but when she told me that she lived in Paris, France, I couldn't turn her down. I needed to get as far away from this place as possible, and if that meant going to a different country all together, then so be it.

It was obvious to me right when she walked through the door that she came from a fairly middle class family. Her dress was of a faded royal blue, but she didn't want to buy a new one because of her strain on finances. Her hair looked like she had tried very hard to do it herself but had a little twirl of grey hair sticking out from behind her ear, and had a head piece that looked like a black ferret had died there and was pinned to the top of her head. She had a small cane with her, and she walked with a limp that she was trying very hard to hide. She had what must have once been raven black hair, but now it was white, sprinkled with black here and there. Her eyes, I must say were her only saving grace. They were a brilliant bright blue, sprinkled with the most beautiful bright green on the inside. They were faded with age, but that just added to their beauty.

She told my lawyer, that a great friend of my grandmothers had told her that my mother and father had both died, and that I was left all alone. She decided to come and see if I would like to live with her in Paris. She was a new widow, her husband died about 3 months before my mother and father did, so she needed some company, and I needed someone to care for me, so it seemed a perfect fit. Her name, was Meg Giry and she said that as a child she had worked at the Paris Opera House with my grandmother, when she was still dancing and singing there.

I hear a small knock on my door. I turn and see my lawyer, Mr. LeBleu standing in the doorway.

"Are you ready Mademoiselle? Madame Giry is asking for you."

"Yes. One moment. Oh Mr. LeBleu? Would you be so kind as to...um.." I motion at my bags, not sure how to ask for help.

"Oh! Oh, of course Mademoiselle." He walks over and swiftly picks up the two bags with my clothing in them, as I carry my carry-on bag with my books for the ride.

I decended the stairs, saying goodbye to the staircase, the walls and my bedroom for the last time. I saw Madame Giry standing at the door with her bag in hand, waiting for me so we could leave for my new home.

" You'll love the Paris Opera House, Aria. I recall your Grandmother saying it was her favourite place in the whole world when she was young." Madame Giry had been talking to me about the place we would live, the Opera House, since we woke up this morning for the last day of travel before we reached Paris. I could tell she was excited to be home, but there was another thing she was excited about but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Just excited to show me my rooms and the place my grandmother sang, I told myself, but I knew there was something else.

"You will be staying in the same room your grandmother stayed in as well" She went on. " Its had a little wear and tear over the last 30 years, but it's still livable, and who knows, you might be able to liven it up a little" She gave me a very maternal smile, it calmed me down a great deal. I had been feeling very hostile and nervous ever since I had woken because, like Meg had said at least 20 times before the other day " When we get you to the Opera I will teach you how to dance and you will get singing lessons from a great teacher." The more she spoke about it, the more I thought she wanted me to be just like my grandmother, Which frightened me even more. I had a horrible voice! My own mother never wanted me to sing, how was I supposed to become a great singer with a voice like mine. I had grown to like Meg and I did not want to disappoint her.

" We can't be much farther now, look at all the farms, there are a lot of them right outside. Shouldn't be more than half an hour now. I'll have my grandson, Stephan, help you with your bags when we get there. He is about your age you know. He is 17."

"I'm 15, that's a two year difference..."

"I know, silly girl, I said about, not exactly" She smiled at me again, but this time very patronizing, I resented it.

"So I've been talking this whole ride. You haven't told me anything about you. Well, tell all, dancing, singing-"

"Singing!? Ha!" I exclaimed. I realized I had been rude and quickly recomposed myself. "I, uh, haven't sung since I was 12..my...my mother didn't like it when I sung, it frightened her."

She stared at me in shock "I'm sure your voice sounds fine! Are you sure she wasn't partially deaf?" She was kidding, but it still hurt to know that she wasn't actually deaf and ti was really that bad.

"Well, you are Christine Daaé's granddaughter! I bet you sound just like her!"

I laugh "That's exactly what my father thought, he said we sounded identical...but he lied...just to make me feel better..."

"I'm sure that's not true Mon Cherie." Pity heavy in her voice

"Here," She said, very confident now, like she had a great idea. "Sing for me and I'll tell you."

I stared in shock "No! No, I couldn't...I mean I must sound horrible if-"

"Do you know the song "Angle of Music"!" She asked, with great excitement.

I started to feel uncomfortable, That is the song I was told never to sing, I couldn't "No, no I can't...father told me not to-"

"Aria, listen to me. Nothing can hurt you if you sing one little song. I'll sing with you if you want."

"But-"

"No buts, now, are you ready? Okay!"

I pause, thinking it over, the story about The Man was just a story and nothing more, wasn't it? All made up by my father. I take a deep breath and start to sing.

ERIK P.O.V:

I walk on the side of the dirt road, getting splashed by a car as it passes by on its way into the city. Into Paris. My home. Within, holds my prison, The Opera Populaire. I spent many years there teaching my love. Oh, how lovely her voice was! She was my personal angel on earth, but only for a short time. She had to fall in love with that...that...fop! I let her go, oh yes, I let her go because, I loved her. She was so sad with me, I could not bare to see her like that. I let her go, but only if she would wait to have their first child, they did not of course, who could blame them, their love was so pure, so beautiful how could they not want to share it with the world.

When I heard that they had conceived a child, I was furious! I searched all over to find her so I could give her and her husband a piece of my mind, and possibly deal with the child while I was at it. But, she had fled in fear with the little devil and the boy. I searched everywhere for her, she did even though she did not wish to believe it, mine, and she would call me to her, sooner or later she would.

So I waited and searched for months, waiting to hear or see something. And then I did. I heard the voice of an angel. If I had never heard it before I would have thought I was dieing and going to heaven, but I knew. I followed her voice, I tracked her down all the way to her home country, Sweden. I found her in her perfect little house, with her perfect little family, and her perfect little child. I tore down the door and started to scream at her, I was so angry. Her husband tried to attack me, but I flung him to the ground and, in my blind fury, started to choke his. She tried to stop me, but I couldn't until i heard her choked sobs behind me. The noise was too irritating.

I made my way to the burgundy love-seat in the room to rest, watching her bend over him, trying to revive him.

"He is not dead. He is merely unconscious." I said, trying to catch my breath.

"What do you want?" She said in a whisper.

"Nothing. I...I was just angry."

"What could we have done to anger you so?"

"What could you have done? What you did my child, is have a baby."

She looked at me utterly astonished "My Baby!? That is what its all about? Me having a child?"

"Yes! After I asked you not to! Not until I was dead and buried at least. You couldn't have had to wait that long, just a couple of months and then I would have died. Either of a broken heart, and if that wasn't the case suicide. I couldn't have lived knowing I didn't have you. Oh, but Christine...Christine, Christine. You lied to me! I look at you now and only see a ignorant little whore who couldn't keep her legs shut!" This was true. She had lied to me and thought I would never find her. I do hate ignorant people. She Looks at me with horror on her face. She can not believe her angel was calling her all these things. I'm sorry little girl. You have lost your, angels favour forever.

"Erik...I thought-"

"What? What did you think? That your poor pathetic angel would love you forever no matter what you did? Sorry to tell you, but that's not the case. The only saving quality about you my dear, Is your voice and your face." Sad but true. She had become a slut to me now and forever, but her voice and beauty were hard to forget.

"Erik," She tried to speak, still in shock. "Erik, I know I hurt you, and I will never earn your trust back. But If you think that calling me foul names will make up for what I have done, than you are just being childish!" She screamed at me with utter hatred.

I started to laugh. "Me being childish!" I screamed at her. "Your the one who didn't think I would be able to find you!" I grabbed her by the wrists and twisted "You and I are connected forever! You or any of your children call for the Angel of Music, and I will come! I promise you that my dear!" I let her fall to the ground and stepped away. "I promise you, your children's children's children with call for the Angel of Music and I will be there!"

"But how can that be? Already you are at least sixty years old. You can't live long enough to see my child's children. Its impossible, Erik!"

I just laughed at her, because she hadn't realized why I did not look 60, I looked 30. I would look 30 forever because...

"I sold my soul to the devil for eternal life you idiot! I will be around forever, unless I kill myself, therefore giving my body along with my soul to the devil. I will never die. I will live on and on and on, I will hunt your children, your children's children, and your children's children's children forever, they will never rest from fear of me!" By this time she was crying, but there was another cry intertwined with her's. I swiftly rounded the corner, and enter a little room with blue painted walls and a crib and a rocking chair.

I look into the crib and see a crying baby boy. I pick him up and look at him for a long time. He stares up at me. I am frozen in place because of what I see. It is the same eyes, nose, mouth, ears,, even the same beautiful blond hair. He started to coo at me, his voice beautiful, it would become a beautiful tenor some day. He was the male version of his mother. He grabs at my half-mask and it falls to the floor. I start to turn my face from him, but I hear no cry or horror, nothing. He didn't care about my face.

"Erik?" I hear Christine behind me.

"He's so much like you," I'm crying, tears of joy and shame all in one. I want to keep him forever, as a token of Christine, but it would hurt to much, of a token of her's and Raoul's love for each other. Then I realize, if a boy looks like a male version of her, then a girl would look exactly and sound exactly like my Christine, my angel. It wouldn't be her but I could have another angel to teach and to love and, maybe, eventually love me.

"I know a way for you to make it up to me. A way that I will never go after your family if you give me this one thing." I tell her trying to keep my voice even.

"Yes. I promise! Anything to keep my family safe!" She said with relief in her voice, I can only chuckle, because she was so stupid, that she would promise with out hearing the offer first.

"The first girl born in your family will belong to me, then? Good no, argument." She collapsed on the floor.

"You tricked me...You BASTARD, you tricked me!"

" I didn't trick you child, you didn't wait to hear the offer, you did this to yourself. I did nothing."

She shook her head. "I will never have another child. Never! You will never have one of my children!"

"Then I will just take your granddaughter, and if not, then your great-granddaughter! Point is, the next girl to be born rightfully belongs to me! There is nothing you or your idiot of a husband can do about it!" I set the boy in the crib, and quickly walk over Christine, pulling my pant leg out of her grasp as she tries to cling to it. I walk toward the door, stepping on Raoul as I leave.

Since then, I waited and watched the DeChagny family, waiting for a daughter or granddaughter that would be mine. I also watched their son, Randalf, grow up into a fine young man, looking everyday more like my Christine. Also through the years, to cover the pain of Christine, I slept with many prostitutes and drank heavily. The pain went away, if only for a short time. Finally twenty-five years later, Randalf De Chagny announced that he and his wife, horrid and vain Harriet, would be having a child. I celebrated that night, meaning I went out and drank until I passed out.

I woke up to find, that Harriet and Randalf De Chagny, had fled, fearing me and taking their child, the child that could belong to me if a girl.

I go to find Christine, now a 44 year old widow, since Raoul had passed away two years earlier, I find her sitting by the fire side, knitting a scarf. A little too calm for my liking, I snap.

"Where are they you bitch!" I scream at her.

"Hello, Erik. Its been a long time. Twenty-five years correct, since you tricked me into promising my granddaughter to you." She spoke very cool and collected.

I leaned over the chair and looked right into her blue eyes "Where did they go with my girl?!"

She leaned forward and looked right into eyes, staying calm but her voice stern, "She will never be your girl!"

I let out a scream of anger, and rush to the door. I turn and point at her to make it clear. "I will find them, no matter where they go, no matter what they do, I will find them and the child will be mine!" I run out of the house, go to the horse stables and steal one pinto and ride out of town.

I wait and listen for twelve years. I follow nothing but ideas and vague feelings of where they might be. Until one fall day, the chill was starting to get to me, and I went inside to get warm. All of a sudden, a feeling went through my body. A sudden warmth went through my body and I heard it, the voice of a little girl, she was singing Angel of Music, I could hear it as clear as day. I could see her too, and she did, she did look just like my Christine! She sounded like her too, but her eyes and hair. They weren't Christine's , but the eyes seemed familiar. Needless to say I needed to find her, and I knew where she was now. Mantova, Italy. I quickly got on my horse, and went full speed toward Italy.

I got to Italy, listening to this child singing Angel of Music, not knowing that she was calling me, her rightful guardian to her. I was closing in on them , when the singing stopped. I listened and listened and listened but heard nothing. I could not believe that I was this close to her, yet so far away, for the next two years I had looked all over Italy, pleading with the child to sing again. She would not.

I decided to give up and head back to my home. My Prison. The Opera Populair. I had just gotten splashed by a passing car, when I hear it. I hear her. That was her in the car. She was with my dear friend Meg Giry. She was bringing her to the Opera house. Bringing her to my home. Know it or not, she was coming home to her angel.


	4. Chapter 4

_**I know this chapter is short, but thers plenty of good chapters coming :) review and follow please!**_

Aria P.O.V

I finish and look up at Ms. Giry. She is just staring at me. I start to tear up, I look down at my hands, fiddling with my dress.

"I told you I wasn't good." I whisper. "I'm sorry if I disappointed you. I just don't have my grandmother's or my father's voice..." There is silence. Is she going to tell me that I can't come to the opera house? If I can't sing, does that mean I can't be at the opera house? I hope she'll keep me.

We sit there, silent, for a long time. I finally look up, wondering what she is thinking about, and how angry she is. I see silent tears running down her narrow cheek bones, not tears of anger, but of pure and utter joy! I don't understand.

Ms. Giry lets out a small squeak and quickly embraces me in her bony arms. I never realized how small and fragile she was until now. I can feel her shoulders shake with silent sobs what seem to wretch her whole body. When she finally calms down, she pulls away and holds me at arms length, she looks at me as if she has found something she had lost a long time ago.

She breaths a long, rattled sigh before she is ready to talk again. She pulled, reluctantly away, and just stared at me. "I'm sorry," She said, " It's just... your so much like her!"

I stare at her very confused "Like who?" i ask.

"Like your grandmother, like Christine Daaé...so much like her. Your face and your voice...but your eyes. They look. . . familiar." and she gave me a smile.

I couldn't believe it. She was telling me I looked and sounded like my grandmother, the opera singer, Christine Daaé. She was telling me my voice was good! After years and years off believing that it was horrible, but now someone was telling me it was beautiful. Then, after all those years of keeping my voice silent, I felt, liberated, I felt a way I had never felt in my whole life, when I sang, I felt like there was nothing I could do, but, i also felt something else. A connection. I couldn't explain it, it felt . . . spiritual, not physical. It was strange, but it felt good.

"Well," Ms. Giry said, turning her head to wipe her eyes "I suppose, we know where a certain girl will be in a couple years, with a little training of course, but I am sure, that you will follow in the steps of your grandmother . . . in more ways than one"


	5. Chapter 5

Aria P.O.V

"Well, here we are my dear," Ms. Giry said wistfully "L'opera populaire!"

It was as beautiful as I could have ever dreamed it. It looked like something that you might see for royalty. The front of the building was a rectangular shape with many intricate mouldings. There were arch ways all along the front, and farther up were windows, lined with column after column lining the windows. On the ends were moulding that I couldn't quite make out, but i suspected they were a coat of arms of some kind. Above those was a moulding repeating itself one after the other, but each time you look at it, there was something new. Along the top of the roof, it looked as if the princess from the Rumpelstiltskin story had come and threaded a golden ribbon just for the glory of this house of music. On either end of the top of the building were two magnificent, guardian angles, reaching toward the heavens with their palms facing the beautiful sky. At the very top of the triangular roof, was an extra dome roof, and on top of the were three men. Two of the men, sitting on either side of the third, and the third standing tall toward the sky holding high a golden harp toward the sky, presenting it to god Himself. I got out of the car and stood there, bathed in the beauty of this magnificent building. Yet, in this beautiful moment, I felt a chill run up my spine.

It was a chill that, makes you feel like someone was watching you, watching your every move, a chill that makes you feel like something terrible was going to happen. I turned around and scan my surroundings, there wasn't anything strange about it, it was beautiful out and all the street vendors were selling their wares . . . and then I saw him. There was a man, dressed all in black, a cloak brought all around him hiding his face from view, he was about 6 feet high, and seemed very slim, although it was difficult to tell under the huge cloak. He was hunched over just a bit, and his body was angled right at me. Although I did not see his face, I felt his eyes staring at me, I was the most frightened I had ever been in my entire life. Yet, I felt a pull, I felt as if I was supposed to go to him, be with him, the most intense pull I ever felt in my life. Then, I heard it, a voice, faintly, but clearly, the voice of an angel.

"I am your angel of music,

Come to your angel of music!"

"Hey, Watch out!"

I turned around and a giant piece of metal was falling right at me. I quickly jumped out of the way, the metal falling at the hem of my dress.

"Vic! What the hell do you think your doing, boy!" yelled a heavy set man from the area they were doing restorations on the corner or the building. "Hurry up and get that blasted thing off of the poor woman, would ya!"

Along came a very handsome, boy, who I could only guess was Vic. He was wearing a worn out shirt with tan trousers and suspenders that the elastic was not working as well as should have been, He had red hair that shimmered in the sun and all over his face he had freckles. As he got closer, I could make out more, like his very strong nose and his eyes were the most perfect shade of green i had ever seen.

And then he opened his mouth.

"What the bleeding hell were you doing there girlie! You shouldn't have been there distracting us from our work! Its all your fault I dropped this here thing!" He said it very full of himself with a heavy cockney accent, I couldn't believe what I heard. He was blaming me for his dropping the metal pole and almost crushing me to death! Me!

"I beg your pardon, sir, but-"

"Oh! Don't try to explain your self to me! I understand completely! You just couldn't help flirting with a handsome kid like me self, well i forgive ya for that."

"I must say you are absolutely-"

"Charming, handsome, funny, take your pick there's plenty"

"Well, I must say you are a jack-"

"Well, I supposed I should be going and finish with me job, honest work for an honest man and all that stuff, hope to see you around soon me lady." and with that he winked and walked away with pole in hand.

I was never so furious in my life, I couldn't believe how he had spoken to me, it was rude and no way to speak you a lady . . . and yet I couldn't help but giggle at his mannerisms. There was something about him, something I really liked.

"Oh, darling," cried Ms. Giry as she came around the car and helped me to my feet "what happened? I saw that boy walk away, and, my Lord, how impolite the men have become. No worries, soon you will meet a real gentleman! My grandson, Stephan Beax"

"I thought you said he was your grandson?" I said very confused, because their last names were very different.

"Well, he is more of an. . . adopted grandson, you know" I did not understand exactly of course but she was moving toward the opera house so quickly, I did not have time to speak.

We stepped into the foyer of the opera house and the inside was just as beautiful as the inside.

The first thing I saw was the huge stair case that goes up and at the top, divides into two separate staircases going different ways. Everything was a accented with gold and the mouldings were as exquisite as the outside. I could not wait to hear the beautiful singing of the opera stars and see the dancing of the corp de ballet. It seemed like a wonderful dream.

"Ah! There he is! Mon petit chou!" She cried as a tall and muscular boy came striding in our direction. He was about 18 years of age and had dark curly hair, his skin was a pale color and his shoulders broad. He was about 5 feet and 9 inches and was obviously a dancer, he moved across the floor like it was a stage that he commanded, and he was obviously very happy with that.

"Bonjour! Mon grand mere!" He easily lifted Ms. Giry off the ground and gave her two enormous kissed on the cheeks.

"I missed you so much grand mere, and so have the ballet brats!" he said this with a mischievous grin, then he caught sight of me, "and, we have all been very excited to meet the granddaughter of the one and only Christine Daaé." he slowly turned to me, took my hand and kissed it gently, "It is a pleasure, I must say, to be the first mademoiselle."

"Thank you sir, it is a pleasure meeting the grandson, Ms. Giry has spoken of." I gave him a small nod of acknowledgement.

"Might I inquirer, as to you name, mademoiselle?"

"Aria," I replied, struck with the charm of this young man, "Aria Marie DuBois."

"That is a beautiful name my dear" he said very softly, "well, I do think I should leave you two to finding your room. Once again, mademoiselle, it was a pleasure meeting you." and with another peck on his grandmothers cheek, he walked away, no doubt to see to the corp de ballet.

Ms. Giry gave me a look that made me think she could read my thoughts, and then quickly turned her eyes to the golden clock on the wall.

"My," She said, very surprised "It is getting late, one hour and thirty minutes past noon! And we haven't had luncheon yet! Come, come, come, I'll show you to your room. Don't worry about the bags, they'll be up later." and with that we ascended the giant staircase and continued to go up and up and up. It seemed like the height of this building would go on forever, we walked through door after door, hall after hall, and finally we got to a small but quaint room at the end of a long hallway.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, but i knew my face told her for me.

This room was a room that I have always wanted! The bed was already made with sheets and a thick quilt with the colours of a spring morning, pastel pinks, blues and yellows all formed together to make the perfect blanket. The bed was an old iron post bed, but it had a lot of character, which i loved! The one four-pane window was just big enough that it let in enough light but not too much as to keep me awake. There was a small wardrobe on the wall of the door and a small rocking chair opposite it with a small bookcase with couple books on it beside the chair. But, the best thing about the room was the floor to ceiling mirror that was leaning against the wall.

"I . . . don't know what to say . . . it's beautiful!"

"Your grandmother thought so too. She loved this room more than any other room here. She would be very happy to know you love it as much as she did." She gave a long sigh and said "Well, now you've seen it, you can come back tonight to unpack your bags, we have to go have lunch now." with a smile and a jerk of her head, I followed her back toward the foyer, and to the kitchen, all the while thinking that this was where I belonged.


	6. Chapter 6

Erik P.O.V

I couldn't believe it! She was falling right into my hands! My Christine, my beautiful Christine, but not entirely. I will do things differently this time, I will not let her go, this time, she will sing for _me, _and _only me!_

As the car passed me I knew I had to follow them. Another car immediately passed and I jumped onto the back and hoped it was going toward the opera.

As the car neared my home, I could only think of how I was going to get her with me. I couldn't go about it the same as before, I would have to be more careful, more conscious about who she associated herself with. I also knew that I _had _to have her as mine!

I hopped off the back, about a block away from the opera house. I quickly slipped away into an alley and walk towards my destination, to finally get a glace of my possession.

I slunk along the darkened street, passed the drunkards and bums, until I started to see my home. I could not believe I was seeing my home again, when I left I thought I would never see it again and there I was! Back at the Paris Opera! There was a group of men doing repairs on the outside with ladders and scaffolding and other sorts of building materials. I couldn't help but notice how much it had changed over the long, long years of wandering, wandering in search of her, my new angel of music, I scanned the crowd for the car that sped passed me on the road.

I scanned the whole crowd of merchants and automobiles trying to spot the right car, and then it came. It drove up to the front, very slowly, stopped, and out stepped, Madame Giry, but she looked so young, younger than she should have been. Or was it, no it couldn't be, Meg? Yes, it was, she did look a lot like her mother, and she no doubt would be as much help to me. She looked very old though, worn down, and the clothing she wore was just horrible, all feathery and gaudy, it was a painful sight for me, who was used to the finest suits, and silk cloaks. I looked down at the clothing I wore and realized I had deteriorated, but that would be fixed soon, when I begin collect my salary again. There was no doubt in my mind that I would have the opera under my control again, that and my new angel. Given the right motivation and the right association with myself, she would be mine soon.

As I pondered the future, I noticed someone else emerge from the car, and realized that it was my angel, my new Christine. I realized that I would have to find out the child's name, instead of calling her "New Christine" and "Angel", but for now it will have to work. She stood there, bathed in the afternoon sun, it was then that I realized how different she looked from Christine. Christine, had beautifully blond hair and blue piercing eyes, this girl, even though she did look remarkably like her grandmother in the face, but her hair, was thick and brown, perfect curls all the way through, and her eyes, though I only had a quick glance of her face, I could guess they were not blue.

I was absolutely transfixed by this girl, and she turned around, as if she could feel my eyes on her. She stared at me, and I at her beauty, and I felt an unbearable urge to sing to her. Slowly, seductively, I began, the song she sang to bring me to her, just recently.

"I am your angel of Music,

Come to me angel of music"

She started to waver forward and back, I knew I should stop, but Something kept me going. I repeated the verse.

"I am your angel of Music,

Come to me angel of music!"

I took a glance over to where Giry was standing, and she was looking right at me. Stay out of this old woman, I willed her. The girl was wavering even more, and she took a step towards me. I knew I almost had her, but I also knew I shouldn't because I would be making the same mistake as with Christine, taking her from the world above too fast. Then I heard a crash, yelling and I saw a piece of scaffolding fall onto my angel!

I almost gave away my position by running to her rescue, but I was stopped by Giry, she motioned for me to go around the back of the opera, to the opening to the cellars, where I would be able to get down to my lair. I looked back as the child laying on the ground, and saw a boy go over to help her up. I cursed at my self for not having the self control to not sing to her, and now this boy was flirting with _my angel!_

I walked toward the back of the opera, trying to control my rage at the idiot boy who harmed my child! I began to run, and before I knew it, I was in the cellars, running toward my home. Soon, my child, I thought, soon,we will be reunited in music once more, and _forever!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Please don't forget to give it a review! It always means alot to me! :)**_

Aria P.O.V

"Where did you live?"

"I love your outfit, beautiful!"

"What room are you staying in?"

"How do you like it here?"

"Girls, Girls!" Mme. Giry called over the commotion of all the excited ballet girls "She did not come here to be suffocated by her peers!" They all settled down, trying to hide their smiles. "Now get back to practising, you still have an hour to go of rehearsal! Oh, Clara, you can come with us, you will have to show little Aria the ropes of the opera."

Out of the crowd of white tutus came a tall thin girl, about 5 foot 7, with strawberry blond hair. She had brilliant hazel eyes and a small button nose, and she looked about 16 years old.

"Bonjour! It is very nice to meet you!" She gave me a very warm smile, and gave me a gently but friendly hug.

" Well," Ms. Giry said, clapping her hands together excitedly "I will leave you, Aria, in Clara's capable hands!" She turned to walk away, but then turned slowly to the other girls and gave then a death stare. "The rest of you though, don't think that you can slack off, where is my grandson! He is supposed to be keeping you in order!"

"He went to the washroom, he told us to practice our pirouettes." A girl in the back called forward.

Just then I felt two large hands cover my eyes. "I'm back now." A voice said, and I heard all the ballet girls giggling to each other. The hands grabbed my shoulders, whipped me around, and there was Stephan. He pulled me in and kissed me on both cheeks, he then walked past me to Ms. Giry, giving her a kiss, while I wiped my cheeks.

"It was nice to see you again, mademoiselle," he gestured towards me.

"A pleasure." I said, giving him a slight smile.

" I am sorry grand mama, I had to excuse myself, but I expected them to keep to their studies." He said giving the girls a scolding glance.

"Its fine! Just make sure these ladies are ready for the next show." She then turned to us. " Well, ladies, I will leave you, Clara will take care of you from here on out, and make sure that you are at the dance rehearsal tomorrow, Aria. We need to start getting you up to the level all these girls are." With that, she gave all the girls a smile, and left.

Stephan turned back to the girls, who from the time he arrived, were gazing at him with glazed over eyes, while some stared at me with jealous looks. "Alright, girls," He announced, "You seem to have gotten me in trouble with Giry. Now, what am I going to do with you?"

"I tried to tell them we shouldn't stop Stephan!" Called a small girl in the front, with a face like a pug.

"Mhmm." hummed Stephan. "You don't want me to get the opera ghost to take care of you all?" Some of the girls gave gasp's, while some jumped and shrieked. Clara just gave a big sigh, which made Stephan look back at her."Well, nun-the-less we will have to go for 10 min after 2:30 this afternoon."

Multiple moans and groans emerged from the group of girls, except for the little girl in the front with the pug-face. I looked over at Clara, and she looked absolutely board, she wasn't even looking at Stephan. He turned around and stepped toward her.

"Could I speak to you for a moment Clara?" He puffed out his chest, and his voice went noticeably deeper.

"If this is about 'seeing me after' again, I don't want any part of it Stephan." She was noticeably annoyed, even disgusted, when she talked to him.

"Shh," he grabbed her by the wrist and led her away.

I stood there in front of all the ballet girls, who, under instruction from the pug-faced girl, had started to practice their dance numbers again. I stood there, feeling very awkward, and with nothing to do but stand, I couldn't help but overhear Clara's and Stephan's conversation.

"Not in front of the ballet brats, or that new girl." Stephan said very firmly.

"Why not? All those girls should know how big of a jerk you are!" She said, with disgust coated thickly on her tone.

"You were the one who came to my room with me!" He said matter-of-factually

"No, I walked beside you, because you refused to let me alone. Then you just . . ." She stopped there, her voice seemed to get caught in her throat. "Please," she said slowly "just leave me alone!"

I heard her start to walk away, but I heard her gasp and she stopped, I could only guess that he had grabbed hold of her to make her stop.

"Fine," he said, venom in every syllable "The new girl is very attractive as well, _and_ she is _Christine Daae's_ granddaughter and you know the scandal to that story. Maybe, she's as much of a slut as her grandmother and she _will _put out and not be so much of a . . . tease."

I stayed staring forward as he walked past me, and did not look at him as he turned to look me over and then proceeded to give me a wink. Clara quickly strode to my side, with as much pride as she could muster, grabbed my arm and led me out of the rehearsal studio.

"Here is the dressing rooms for all the actors and singers," Clara said walking slowly past all the dressing rooms in the hallway. "They have a special ventilation system that makes it possible for the noise from the stage to be heard in the dressing rooms, so the actors can hear their ques."

"So, they can hear what ever happens onstage from those rooms?" I asked, this was very interesting to me. I had always been interested in stage and opera,even if I wasen't that great of a singer.

"Yes, to a certain extent, as long as the people talk loud enough to be heard through out the whole audience." She explained, leading me through the halls.

"It is very confusing back here isn't it?" I was trying to keep up with he as she twisted through the dark halls full of ropes, props, and set pieces. "Not very tidy either." I said jokingly, giving a small nervous laugh.

She gave a small chuckle "No, I guess not, but after awhile you get used to the halls, you might get lost once in awhile, but you'll figure it out eventually."

Just then a large black figure stepped out from the props and the set. "If you get lost, I'll take good care of you." Said a deep, gruff voice. The figure was very tall with broad shoulders. The figure came closer to them, and I backed away slightly, frightened and ready to run away. Clara stood her ground, giving a big sigh, I was very impressed with her bravery.

"Jean-Lu, please! Can you not be creepy for once in your life?" Clara sighed, folding her arms in front of her.

"I'm just saying hello to the new girl." He stepped out where I could see him clearly. He had very ragged hair, his face looked very sagged, he was about 40 years old. "My, my, my!" He said looking at me with an intensity that made me feel very uncomfortable. "If it isn't little Aria Marie . . . Granddaughter of the great Christine?" He took a step toward me, I took a step back, and Clara put her arms out to block him.

"Leave her alone." She said very sternly.

"You look so much like her." He didn't even notice Clara, standing between us. "I knew your grandmother, she was so beautiful! And her voice," He took a small gasp for air. "an angel's voice. I was a young boy helping Joseph Bouquet when she started her debut." Then he looked at me with anger in his eyes. "I remember what happened after, too." He stepped toward me, pushing Clara out of the way. I backed up, but I was stopped by a large prop horse behind me.

Clara pushed her way between Jean-Lu and myself. "Leave her alone!" She turned to me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me the way we had come. "Come on Aria, we have to go." Jean-Lu would not let us go though.

"No!" He shouted, grabbing my arm.

Just then we heard a large bang five feet from where we were. I looked over and saw a large set piece that looked like a scene from "The Magic Flute" fall to the ground. I looked up and saw a dark figure covered in a black cloak. I couldn't believe it, it looked like the exact same man I saw in the market. Jean-Lu saw the man, too.

"He . . . He's back! He was gone . . . but he came back!" He stepped back, staring at the area where the shadow was, then something seemed to dawn on him as he looked back at me, with pure loathing in his eyes. "You!" He shouted pointing at me.

"Aria come on! We have to go!" Clara sounded scared, and she pulled me the way we came. Jean-Lu stumbled toward us.

"You brought him back! He came back to get you!" He shouted after us, picking up speed.

"Come on Aria! Come on! He's crazy! We have to leave!" She pulled me harder, and we were running through the twisted halls.

"He's back for you! The Opera Ghost won't stop until he gets what he wants! He won't stop!" He shouted after us, and I heard his heavy footprints hitting the ground behind us.

We ran through the twisted halls, trying to get away from Jean-Lu, who was running right after us shouting at me abut "The Opera Ghost" when suddenly, he stopped, he wasn't chasing us anymore but Clara just kept running through the halls. We kept running until we got to a dark wooden door, covered in notches in the wood. She quickly opened the door and threw me in, followed and shut the door. I heard a clicking of a lock on the door and the sound of Clara rustling around trying to find something.

"I'm sorry about this," I heard her whisper to me from the other side of this darkened room. "We just needed to get away from that man." I heard her shudder "Just the way he talked about it was creepy. I just needed to get to this room, and you know I trust you. This room makes me feel safe. Hmm, I can't find the lamp . . . ah! Here it is!" I heard a flicking of two things against each other and saw some sparks in the corner of the room, lighting Clara's face. Suddenly, the room was filled with the soft light from the match that Clara was holding in her hand.

I finally saw the room I was in, the wallpaper was a burgundy floral pattern. There was a light green-yellow couch on the right side of where I was standing, and in-front of me was a huge vanity with a small rotating mirror on top. Underneath there was a small white wooden stool with faded pink roses on the side. In the corner was a tall coat rack with one small, pink cloak hanging on one of the hooks. On the far wall was a large floor to ceiling mirror. The border of it was absolutely exquisite! Golden with beautiful carvings throughout it.

"What _is_ this place?" I asked as i made my way over to the lamp on the vanity when Clara stood.

"Well," she said looking calm. "This is your grandmothers old dressing room."

I froze. I couldn't tell if I was excited or afraid to be in the room of the person who I resembled so closely. I stared at Clara, I walked toward the vanity.

"You can sit down if you want." Clara said from beside me. "Look, there's still some of her makeup, I don't think anyone wanted to come in after what happened." She grew quiet again.

I sat down and ran my hand over the chipped white paint. I felt a warm surge of energy run through my body. I felt calm for once in my life, and happy.

"How old are these things?" I asked picking up some of the old blush and lipstick.

"Well your grandmother left the opera in 1881 or something like that, so I would guess about 30 years, and no one has been in here since 2 years ago when I started coming in here." She said, rocking back a forth on the tips of her feet.

I sat there, staring at my reflection in the dust covered mirror. I could imagine my grandmother looking in the exact mirror brushing her hair, getting ready for a performance on the stage. I started to hum an song from an opera I had the record too. I just stared in the mirror and hummed, and then I heard it.

"_Aria._" whispered a voice close to my ear.

I stopped humming. I looked up at Clara, and realized that she was staring at me in what looked like a sort of awed silence.

"Did you hear that?" I asked looking around.

"I did hear something. . ." She was silent.

"Clara?" I got up and walked toward her. "Clara, whats the matter? Did you hear the voice too?"

She looked at me confused. "The voice?" she kept staring at me "I heard your voice! Your singing!" she walked right up to me and grabbed my hands. "That was one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard!" Her eyes widened like she had just thought of something. "Come with me!" She pulled me in toe behind her, through the door and once again through the twisted halls, but this time around a different corner and through thick red curtains. Finally, we made our way onto the seemingly never ending emptiness of the huge platform of the stage.

"What are we doing here?" I asked as she let go of my hand and dashed to the instrument pit.

"Okay," she said as she hopped down from the stage and made her way to the piano. "Since you didn't grow up around all this 'Opera Ghost' nonsense, I am going to fill you in. The story behind your grandmother is. . . well-known. The basic thing is that she loved your grandfather and-"

"And she had an angel of music?" The story sounded familiar.

"Well, more of a stalker." She said looking at me "and well long story short he kidnapped her and then let her go. But the thing is," she motioned for me to move closer to her, I moved closer to the edge of the stage "He died in the sewers of the opera house of a broken heart! Isn't that romantic?" Then she made a face "Except for the sewer and the kidnapping and stuff. . . ." She smiled. "but the _other _thing is, is that his ghost is still around the opera house, as a _real_ opera ghost."

"I. . . but when Stephan was talking about the opera ghost, I thought you didn't believe in him." I was very confused.

Clara rolled her eyes "Well, I just really don't like Stephan, but I do believe in the opera ghost." She leaned in close to me. "It actually really scared me when that Jean-Lu was yelling at you about the opera ghost wanting you. He thought that he left to find your grandmother, but all of us know that he died long ago." She had a giddy smile on her face as she stared at me.

"What does all this have to do with," I motioned around me "All this?"

" Let me finish," She went and sat at the piano. "As the story goes, sometimes, if the ghost hears a voice he really likes, he will make sure that someday that person will be on stage someday. Sort of a good luck thing for singers here."

"But I'm not a singer, I'm in the ballet." She slammed her hands on the piano stool.

"I KNOW! It's a crime! You should be one of the singers!" She leaned over the piano "Which is what I'm getting to. You are so good at singing, that I want you to sing for the-" She took her arm and motioned a cloak across her face. "Phantom!"

I felt my eyes widen. "I really don't feel comfortable with that. . ." Clara looked visibly disappointed.

"Oh, but Aria, it's only for the fun of it. Really if the idea of the phantom scares you, I'll let you know now that he is a very nice ghost. We haven't heard from him for years."

"What about when we were with Jean-Lu?" I questioned, "I was sure I saw a man on the flies!"

"Oh, no that was just because of Jean-Lu, don't worry, he scares everyone." She gave me a small smile.

"I just don't know." I sighed

"Well," she said positioning herself in front of the piano "_I_ am going to play a song on the piano, and the music. . ." She slide some extra sheet music on the piano "will just 'happen' to be sitting right there"

With that she started playing the first few bars to a song I had never heard. It sounded beautiful and I couldn't help but grab the music at least take a look at the words. The sheet music read, _Think of Me from Hannibal_. I heard the piano stop, I looked up and saw Clara staring at me smiling.

"You want to, and you know you do!" She practically shrieked.

"Fine," I sighed "Fine, I'll do it."

Clara gave a squeal of excitement and played the first 2 bars of the music, and with that, I started singing.

"_Think of me__  
__think of me fondly, when__  
__we've said goodbye__  
__remember me__  
every so often  
__promise me you'll try___

On that day_,__  
__that not so distant day__  
you__take your heart back,__  
__and be free__  
__if you ever find a moment,__  
__spare a thought for me"_

I felt a surge of joy rush through my body as I sang the last verse. I could feel my self gaining the confidence that I lacked for so many years. As Clara finished the interlude, I prepared my self for the beginning of the next verse.

"_We never said__  
our love was evergreen  
or as unchanging as the sea...  
but if you can still remember,  
stop and think of me_

Think of august

_when the world was green,__  
__don't think about the things__  
__which might have been___

_Think of me__  
__think of me waking, silent__  
__and resigned...__  
__imagine me, trying too hard to__  
__put you from my mind...___

Think of me_,_

_please say you'll think of me__  
__whateaver els you choose to do...__  
__there will never be a day when__  
__I won't think of you"_

It was then that I felt another set of eyes gazing on my performance. Not from the audience, but from the one of the theatre boxes. I looked to my left and saw a dark figure staring at me from one of the boxes. I then heard the same voice from the street and my grandmother's dressing room. It was singing to me.

"_Can it be_

_Can it be Christine!_

_Brava! Brava!" _

I looked down at Clara, but she was engrossed in the score and listening to me. I looked back at the box, but the shadow was gone, and it was time for the final verse.

_"__Flowers fade_

_the fruits of summer fade_

_they have their seasons so do we__  
__but please promise me,__  
__that sometimes__  
__you will think-"_

I took a deep breath and started the runs.

"_Ahahah ah ah ah ah_

_ahahah ah ah ah ah_

_oh ah oh ah oh oh ohh_

_ah oh ahhhh of me!" _

There was silence. I was afraid to look at Clara, because for the first time in my life, I sang with my full voice! It felt fantastic! I was afraid though, because I wanted Clara to be my friend, and I didn't want to lose her because she thought I was a bad singer. It took me a while, but I finally looked down at her, and what I saw made me sure that she wasn't displeased by my singing. In fact, she was looked absolutely thrilled.

"Now _that_," she said breathlessly "is what I call a _voice!_"

" You liked it? Really?" I asked trying not to sound self-conscious.

" Are you _joking ?"_ She climbed up on to the stage, and practically skipped up to me "With a voice like that, you could have such a standing ovation here! And possibly an encore." She squealed and trapped me in a tight hug.

"You think so?" I spoke with the gasps of air I could manage. For a thin ballet girl, she sure was strong!

She released me and held me at arms length "Of course I do! You could be even better with some proper voice lessons." She gave me a huge smile. "Come on, lets go see if the other girls are finished with their rehearsal."

She grabbed my hand, gave it a friendly squeeze and led me back to the rehearsal studio. I couldn't help but look back at the box, and wonder if what I saw and heard was just part of an elaborate day dream or if it was real. If it was the Opera Ghost. . .


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Sorry about the short chapter, but i really like it :D please follow and leave a review of what you think of it !**

Aria P.O.V

_I found my self walking down a small, dark hallway. I didn't know where I was heading or what was at the end of the hallway. _

_I felt like I walked forever and ever. My feet started to hurt, and I felt like I couldn't take another step, but I put my foot forward, because there was something, I couldn't tell what, but there was something in the dark that I wanted to get. _

_As I set my foot down, the floor disappeared, and I was falling head-over-heels into the darkness._

_I reached my arms out to catch on to something and stop my self from falling, there was nothing. Two portraits came out of the darkness, with a mysterious, blue light cast on them. The one was of my father. He was staring at me with cold eyes. He was wearing the suit he was buried in, and his blond hair was slicked back._

_The other portrait was of a woman in about her 40's. She had blond hair in a high up-do, with two small, tight curls surrounding her face. Her eyes were the same piercing blue as my fathers. Her lips, and nose seemed familiar, though. I touched my face and realized they were mine. I gave a small gasp. I looked at the name under the portrait. _

_It read 'Christine Daaé'!_

"_Aria, why didn't you listen to me!" my father bellowed in his booming voice. _

"_Aria, leave this place!" cried my grandmother "Leave before he gets you!" her voice was ghostly and eerie. _

_I try to stay up right as a fall through the continuous darkness, the wind, throwing my hair and my night gown all around me. " Who?! Who are you talking about!?" I screamed at her. _

"_WHY ARIA, WHY!?" My father screamed_

"_RUN AWAY, ARIA!" My grandmother repeated_

_I covered my ears to block out the sound of their screams, but the sound got louder and louder. I felt like my ears would explode from the noise._

_I fell and fell, and the noise got louder and louder, the voices ringing in my mind._

_Just as sudden as the portraits appeared, they disappeared, and I found my self falling into a pool of grimy water. _

_I felt the walls, for a possible way out, but there was none. All of a sudden, I heard something drop into the water behind me. I turned and saw a rope, looking up, there was a dark shadow looking down on me, presumably holding the rope._

_He beckoned to me to grab hold of the rope, I did so and felt my body rise out of the water. My arms felt weak, as I held the weight of my body against the rope. They grew weaker and weaker as I neared the top, and an over-whelming sense of dread over-took me as I drew closer to the dark figure. _

_Just as I was contemplating dropping back to the water to escape the man, two strong hands grabbed me and pulled me back to solid ground. I looked back down the hole, and saw the walls cave in and cover the hole, filling it with rubble and dust. The two hands kept hold of my arms, I turned to look at my the figure and gasped. _

_The man who held me, wore a thick, black, silk cloak that was large enough to cover his whole body. He had thick, jet black hair, slicked back to the point where it was actually shiny. His face was covered with a white mask that started at his forehead, and ended around his nose. I could see from the part that was not covered that his skin was a pasty white, and his eyes were yellow and were sunken into his skull._

_I struggled, but his bony hands dug into my arms. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. I heard him laugh at my feeble attempt to run away, cold and sinister. He pulled me close to his face, we were a millimetre away from each other. I felt his finger nails ripping into the skin on the arms. _

"_Hello, my angel." he whispered close to my ear._

_And then, everything went black._

I heard a loud knocking on my door. I woke in a panic, gasping for air, felling like I just ran 2 miles. My forehead was wet, and I realized that I had gone into a cold sweat.

"Aria Dubois! Wake up and into your tutu! Your first day as a ballerina is about to start!" I heard Ms. Giry's voice call from the hall and listened as her feet clicked away from my door to wake the other girls.

I got up slowly, recovering from my dream. How could I have a dream that felt so real? I never had a dream like that before, and I never wanted one again.

I walked over to the ballet costume that Clara had helped me pick out the night before, and started to remove my night gown. I flinched in pain as the sleeves rubbed my upper arms.

I stood in shock. No, I thought, it was a dream! I couldn't have gotten hurt in my _dream_!

I ran to my mirror to examine my arms and there they were. Ten fingernail marks, where the man had dug his nails into my arm.


	9. Chapter 9

Aria P.O.V

"Aria, you can't be serious!" Clara cried, staring at me across the table. "No!" I exclaimed, bringing my hand from my chin to the table, harder than was probably needed. "I swear, it was so real! It couldn't have just been a dream."

Clara ate another spoonful of her cream of wheat, seemingly bored of the conversation. I took a look around to make sure no one could hear me.

"How do you explain the marks on my arm!" I asked, leaning closer to her.

Blowing a strand of her strawberry blond hair out of the way, she stared at me, patronizing, with her shiny hazel eyes. She then held out her hand. " Let me see your hand." she stated. I hesitated, staring at her inquisitively. " Give me your hand." she said, much more forceful. I placed my hand in her's, she pulled it towards her, looking at my fingertips. She then, dropped it, chuckling to herself.

"Aria, your fingernails need cut."she said, sipping her tea.

I glanced at my fingers. Yes, they did need cut. I hadn't notices it before, but they were long enough to have made the marks. _But it felt so real, _I thought to myself. I felt anger boil up inside me. "Do you think I'm lying!?" I asked raising my voice a little.

She placed her hand on top of mine. "No," a caring look on her face. "No, I'm not saying that." She gave my hand a squeeze. "I'm just saying that, maybe, you just _think_ your dream did it, when . . . well . . . you did it." She stared at me, slowly stirring her wheat.

I looked at Clara, thinking. Could it have just been me, I thought to myself, it felt so real. I could hear the man's voice ringing in my ears even now. His beautiful voice like silk flowing around my body. It sounded so familiar, I thought, I can't remember from where, though.

I put my spoon down slowly, bringing my fingers up to my arm, fitting them into the where the marks were. My hand was too small for the marks, my fingers too short. I took a deep sigh of relief; I'm not crazy! I shouted in my head. As I was about rebuke Clara's explanation, there was a loud bang from the front of the dining hall.

I spun my head toward the sound, and saw Ms. Giry, with Stephan standing by her side, with a faded pink, feathery overcoat draped over her shoulders, her grey-blond hair pulled back into a tight bun with wisps sticking out here or there. She held a black walking stick, resting her hands on top. "Alright, girls!" Shes said with a flourish "Time to start our work. Will all of you please start towards the rehearsal space and start your stretching. Stephan and I will be with you to start with drills." She flipped her head to the door, and all the girls started to file past the two over seers.

Me, Clara, Odette, and two of the older girls who were friends with Clara got up, and started through towards the door. As we walked, the girl with the pug-face elbowed her way through the crowd toward us, until she was walking right beside us.

"What do you want, Meredith?" sneered a red-head to my right, named Odette.

"I hear your the new 'favourite' of Ms. Giry." Meredith snarled at me, ignoring Odette.

Clara stepped in front of me, glaring at Meredith, hands on hips. "Listen, Meredith, I know you think your the best dancer, because Ms. Giry pays you the most attention, but you should know, that's only because your father is the manager. In reality, your about as graceful as a drunkard walking on stilts." With that, she grabbed my wrist and the group of us walked toward the doors.

We walked with the diminishing group of girls toward the doors. "That kind of girl is the type of dancer that gives us all the nickname 'ballet _brat'"_ She cursed under her breath and tensed as we neared Stephan and Ms. Giry.

"Ah. Aria!" Ms. Giry cried, pulling me into a hug. I looked behind me an caught a glace of Meredith scrunching her face in distaste, making her look even more like a pug. Pulling me away from her, Ms. Giry looking me over. There is something different about her, I thought, a new glow, a gleam in her eye. Something, I couldn't figure out what, had changed about my new guardian.

"I will have Stephan give you some extra help, since you are so late to the dancing game." She gave me a little wink.

"Well . . ." I wanted to tell her I had no interest in dancing in the ballet. I couldn't bring myself to do it, she looked so excited, I couldn't just tell her that I couldn't dance._ What if she decides I can't stay any more_, I thought, _She might kick me out on the street, I'll end up on a street corner as a prostitute! Then I'll end up dead in a small ball frozen to death in the middle of winter and people will just walk past my rotting body! _I gave my head a little shake. _Stop being so dramatic Aria, your being crazy. Since when did _I _start thinking of worst case scenarios?_

"If she doesn't dance to our level, she shouldn't even be here." A nasally voice called from behind me. I turned around and saw a group of girls standing behind me with Meredith in the centre. "Maybe she should go be with the orphans, that's where she belongs isn't it? That _is_ where orphans go." Giggles burst out from the other girls, I felt my cheeks go red, and I stared down at my feet.

She was right.

I felt a fragile, but strong hand grab my shoulder and give a comforting squeeze. "As long as she has me," Ms. Giry said coldly "She is _not _an orphan. Is that understood Ms. Fleur" I looked up and saw absolute disbelief and embarrassment on Meredith's face. I felt a strange feeling inside of me, in my chest. It felt like a glow, spreading through out my body. It felt good. I looked up at Ms. Giry and she looked down at me and gave me a slight smile. She turned back to the group of girls and turned cold again "Now," She said "Its time you go to the rehearsal space. Immediately." And with that, she pointed on boney finger to the open door. We all filed out.

"Oh. My. Gosh!" Clara whispered to the group of us. "that was amazing!" All the other girls agreed frantically.

"I thought that she was Ms. Giry's favoured student." I said quietly, hardly believing what had happened.

"She _was_!" The red-haried girl with grey eyes, Odette, exclaimed from my side. "That's why this is so weird! She's never gotten so cold with Meredith before today. No one _ever _does! Their all afraid of getting fired." Odette looked utterly astonished.

"Because she's the managers daughter?" I questioned

"Yup!" Eloise, blond, tall girl to my right popped in. "Anyone who gets in bad with Meredith are in loads of trouble." She looked down sadly.

"Whats the matter?" I asked "So, Ms. Giry won't be on Meredith's good side anymore, so what?"

Clara gave me a sorrowful look. "Well, it's just that, it will only be a matter of time before . . ." She trailed off.

I finally understood. She could get fired!

"No." I stared at the group in disbelief. "No. No, they can't! Shes the ballet teacher! She has been here since my grandmother . . . They can't just . . ."

"I'm afraid they can." Said Odette sorrowfully.

"And if Meredith says anything . . ." Eloise explained glumly

"She will be." Finished Clara.

I felt the feeling from earlier leave and be replaced by a unexplainable sense of loathing deep in my sole for the brat that was Meredith Fleur.

"Come on." Clara said, grabbing hold of my arm. I winced a little, from the marks. "We're going to be late." She lead me down the hall, and the four of us headed to our rehearsal.

Erik P.O.V

_How can I be so reckless. _I thought to myself. Only 48 hours in and I already let her see me a total of _3 times!_ Not to mention speaking to her. Did I have _no self-control! _

I forgave myself for letting her see me in front of the opera house, but that damn red-headed boy. _If he harmed a hair on her delicate head I will rip his arrogant head off! _The time on the cat walk was just necessary! The over-weight stage hand was trying to grab at her, and seems bent on getting a hold of her. _It seems that this opera house is more dangerous than it was 30 years ago. _I thought sourly to myself, pacing around my lake house. _I will have to keep a close eye on my angel._

I could _not, _how ever, forgive myself for the absolute reckless behaviour I displayed while hearing her sing! I stood, in her line of view. In box 5, none-the-less!

_Erik! You must learn to control yourself! _A voice inside me kept yelling. _I know but but I heard her _sing! I could not help but join her in song. Yet as soon as I realized what I had done I put a stop to it and ran away from my angel. _How did I manage to _run away _from that voice! No, no Erik it was a necessity! You would have revealed yourself to her if you had stayed any longer! _I couldn't help but think that that would have been a blessing, instead of hiding down here like a rat! Yet, if I were to go to her now, I knew too well how that would play out. The same as her grandmother. She would reject me.

"Oh, Christine!" I moaned, falling into my organ. Why did she have to leave? If she had stayed with me we would both have been in bliss, I would have been her willing slave. _Now,_I thought, _I will never see you the same way again._ I had a new angel to teach and train into the greatest opera singer Paris had ever know and ever will know. I just had to find a way to do it from the dank cellars of the opera. My angel, my Aria. The name was like music flowing through the room whenever it was uttered, Aria herself had a beautiful personality and voice that was meant for only one person, Aria! I closed my eyes and repeated the name over and over in my mind. _Aria, Aria, Aria. . . _I couldn't stop.

I realized something though. How was I to make sure that she got the proper support and protection, when I was not around to look after her. My eyes flicked open and I uttered a single name.

"Giry!"


	10. Chapter 10

Erik P.O.V

I made my way through the familiar corridors and passage ways, being careful not to be seen. I found it very easy to find my way to the room where the Giry's had always stayed. I guess you can't forget the layout of your home, no matter how long you stay away.

I took a look out the window, in the diminishing light of the hallway. The sun was just coming up over the horizon. _My God! I paced around my organ the whole night? _I couldn't believe I didn't take a break, I mean, yes I don't eat or sleep as often as most people, but I haven't obsessed this much since . . .

_Erik, you know you are going to have to get over her at some point in your life. _The voice in my head reminded me._ Its been nearly 16 years. _I knew the voice was right, but I couldn't bring myself to say her name, without feeling like I was forcing it out.

As I rounded the corner, I recognized the door at the end as the dance masters quarters. Silently, I made my way past all the doors of sleeping workers and slipped silently into Meg's room. Taking a quick look around the room, I realized that Meg was not so different from her mother. The room hadn't changed from the times I would enter and talk to Mme. Giry about how I wanted things to go that day. I took a deep sigh, I felt at home.

I heard something stir in the corner, I flipped my head to the sound and found a waking Meg Giry. I stepped a little closer to the bed, to make sure she was really waking up. When I was sure I slipped back into a dark corner of the room and waited for the woman to rise.

"Good morning, Mademoiselle." I said in a low voice as Meg slid her feet into some house slippers.

I knew I would surprise her a little, but I never would have expected the reaction I received. She barley missed the ceiling she jumped so high, and then she fumbled backward onto her bed, bringing her arm up in front of her face to protect her. "Please, Monsieur! I am an old woman, do not harm me!" She was trembling so much, her bed was shaking underneath her, it was quite funny. I couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Monsieur, if I am harmed, my grandson will find you!" At this I couldn't hold back any longer and finally let out my laughter full force.

"Oh, Meg! You have changed over these years!" I held my stomach trying to calm my snickering. "Monsieur?" Meg asked, no doubt surprised that her 'attacker' was giggling like a child who had just pulled a magnificent practical joke.

"Meg, my dear!" I straightened my figure, finally calming the laughter. "are you telling me you do not remember?"

She slowly lowered her arm from her face and looked me over. I gave myself a silent smile, she really was like her mother, very suspicious and analyzing. She never was the most intelligent girl in the ballet. I hoped it was still true.

_"__Erik!?_ Is it you?" She whispered, slowly standing from her bed.

I gave a small wave with my arm. "I have returned home, and I will need your help Meg. That is, if your willing to help me." I took a few steps closer to her, folding my hands underneath my cloak.

"I _knew _that if I had Aria sing it would help you find her. Then you would be able to come back and help the opera get out of this terrible rut it is in." She seemed as excited about this as a child on Christmas. I didn't understand why though. I felt my brow furrow in confusion.

"Rut?" I questioned. "Since I've been back nothing has seemed out of the ordinary."

"You obviously haven't taken a walk around during the day. The new manager has the employment running scared. He has no idea how to pick a decent opera, and the way the place is run is an unorganized botch!" She threw her hands up in the air, seemingly flustered. I gave a little chuckle.

"Well Meg, I promise you I will do everything in my power 'help' the managers pick the operas for the seasons, you know that. For as how the place is run, I see no reason to change-"

She cut me off with a swipe of her hand. "He is letting his 15 year old daughter pick the operas, the dances, and the songs." My mouth dropped. "He. Is. _What!?" _

She only gave me a sharp not. "He can not do that!" I exclaimed "Shes a 15 year old girl, she can't make the decisions for the whole opera!"

"He's also letting her fire anyone who she disagrees with." she explained in an exhausted voice. "I have had to make her my top priority these last few years. All the girls say she is my favourite, but really? I hate that little brat." She sat down and put her head in her hands.

"Well, that will have to come to an end now, won't it." I gave her a cold glare. "You _do _have a new favourite, don't you?" I took a few, what I hoped were intimidating, steps toward the frail woman.

She looked at me as if I was crazy, which, to her credit, I was. "Are you joking? If I start treating Aria better than Meredith, that's her name by the way, my grandson, Aria, and I will all be out on the streets faster than you could say 'ballet'"

" Well, I am going to have to fix that then." I smiled coyly to myself, knowing exactly what I must do.

"Oh, Erik. That won't be so easy. The managers don't believe in ghosts. It won't work." she sighed and, for some reason, this infuriated me. She didn't believe that I could get this opera back under my control again. I took long strides to where she was sitting, grabbed her wrist and pulled her so she was looking at me.

"Ms. Giry. Do you really doubt _my abilities._" I snarled through clenched teeth. She shook her head, face pale with horror. "Then I advise you to keep you mouth _shut_ when it comes to the things I _can_ and _can not _do. Is that clear?" She nodded her head, apparently unable to speak. I released her hand and strolled back to my place in the dark corner of the room, taking deep breaths to control my anger.

"You said you have a grandson, correct?" I asked staring at the ceiling, concocting another plan. "Yes" was the reply. "Well, what if I were to help him . . . excel in the opera ballet. Putting in a good word for him with the managers?" I turned to the side, watching her out of the corner of my eye.

"Oh, Erik, I would be over-joyed!" She exclaimed, jumping from her bed. I gave a small smile. "And what if," I continued, taking a few steps closer to Meg "I were to help with your financial efforts. A couple thousand a month?" I could see a look of concern on her face. " What would I have to do?" Not taking her eyes off of my masked face.

"Oh, not much. Just do everything your mother did for me when I was here." I explained walking around her, like a shark circling prey "Keep the opera scared of me, once I start off, get my letters to the managers. Keep my angel safe and well-looked after since I am not able to." I stopped behind her and leaned into her ear. "Will you do that for me Meg?"

"Yes," Meg turned to face me. "I think so." She held out her hand to me, I stepped back surveying her. She defiantly was very much like her mother in many ways, yet so different, but i felt that I could trust her. At least for the time being.

Instead of shaking her hand, I gave her a small bow. "Thank you, mademoiselle." I let the words curl off of my tongue. Straightening my self slowly and elegantly, I revealed an envelope with the familiar O.G seal. "If you would be so kind and slip this under the managers door, to announce my arrival."

As soon as she took the envelope, without another word, I spun on my heel going back to my home, and the hidden passageways throughout the opera house to observe the goings on. I was going to, one way or another, give the managers an idea of how _my theatre_ was to be run.


	11. Chapter 11

_**HEY, I know this is a short chapter but I have a lot of stuff going on righ now and I'm just happy I got this out. I know its not what you would expect from the last chapter but i wanted t go into whats happened with Aria . . . so here you go!**_

Aria P.O.V

"Point those toes, ladies!" Called Ms. Giry from the corner of the dance studio.

For about 4 hours this morning we had been twirling around this mirrored room and being yelled at to point our toes and keep time. I had no previous dance training in my life, so i was yelled at the most.

Aria, pick those feet up! Point your toes girl! Are you a snail or a dancer? I can't tell by how slow you are going!

I think I would have enjoyed it much more if not for the conversation that had occurred back in the dining hall. What if Meredith had told her father? What if Ms. Giry was fired from her job and then she would be left out on the street? It would have all been my fault!

When a man in a very dark grey suit stepped into the dance studio, I stopped my leaps, along with Clara and Odette. We looked at each other, and from the look that they gave me, I could tell that the well-groomed man standing in the doorway was the manager. I glanced over at Meredith and saw that she had stopped dancing as well, and there was a disgusting smile of triumph on her squished in face.

The manager, Monsieur Fleur, strutted over to Ms. Giry, looking like an over pompous peacock, and spoke harshly into her ear. Her face stayed the same, but her eyes wandered, and fell on me. We shared a glance of understanding, like we knew what the other was thinking. I knew why he was talking to her, and she knew it.

Quickly she went to Stephan, no doubt telling him to keep an eye on us, and turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

I wish I could follow her, I sighed to myself, but I knew that it was impossible. Before she was even out of the room I heard the nasally voice I had come to despise in my short time here behind me.

"Look's like you and her will be out of here soon. Hmm, too bad." Suddenly I felt two hands push me from behind and I fell hard on the floor, hitting my chin off of the wooden floor boards. I saw stars and felt tears start to well up in my eyes. Good God, that hurt a lot, I thought to myself. I heard the shrieking of shrill laughter, no doubt coming from Meredith's group of girls.

"Oh my God! Aria!" A shout of panic came from my right and I felt two small hands start to help me up, through the blur of tears and stars I saw the small figure of Clara beside me, helping me steady myself, and the broad figure of Stephan, watching, doing nothing.

"Eww! Look! Aria's bleeding!" Screeched a voice from across the room. With that the room erupted into shouts of girls displaying their disgust for all Paris to hear. I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. Between the shouts of disgust and the shooting pain in my chin, it was all too much!

"Can we p-please leave?" I asked Clara through my sobs.

Clara lead me out of the room, through the hallways and to the supply closet, where she got the bandages and disinfectants, and lead me to one of the love seats in the hallway where she could better deal with my injury. I sat in silence, occasionally wincing when the disinfectant was touched to my chin all the while thinking I should never have come here.


End file.
